You're My Backbone
by howlittleyoutrustme
Summary: Arizona & Callie are thrown into the 100th Annual Hunger Games. Will the Games tear apart between the two Tributes, from different Districts, or pull them together? Facing death, and other trials, this follows two Tributes through their fight for life. Rated T. Very AU Calzona & The Hunger Games.
1. Chapter 1

My first fanfic, let me know what you think. It will take around two more chapters for Calzona to meet, and for the story to really get going, so I hope you'll stick around for it & wait to happen (: hope you enjoy this, and please review.

* * *

Light flew past at nearly two hundred miles an hour, illuminating the small room – elegantly, but bleakly furnished – as the train flew on to its destination. Strong, rich, mahogany panelling lined the walls of the carriage, only highlighting further the contrast between its apparent infallibility, and the frailness of the figure curled up against it.

The figure, at a closer glance, was a female – a girl, of no more than seventeen years, at the very most. A thin, slightly malnourished frame was curled into an upright foetal position; pale arms curled around paler shins, a softly sculpted chin resting on rather knobbly knees. She knew the wood behind her, all of it properties and uses, but most of all, the feel of it, and the smell of the polish used to refine it. That bitter smell should have comforted her, reminded her of home. Instead, it did nothing to help the tightening knot at the bottom of her stomach, the realisation that she would most likely not see home again.

A blond, sleek head of hair curled gently around a pale oval face that could have been considered, if not for the eyes that it contained. They were blue, and hopeless. Fearful. Apprehensive. The sheer horror in them marred the otherwise attractive features. Those scared eyes were at that moment fixed on the flickering screen of a television, perhaps two metres across the room.

If an onlooker had known the girl, and what was on the 18-inch screen at the moment, they would have been horrified to. She was reliving every moment of the previous day, and it was that, combined with other ominous factors, that had changed the way those pretty blue eyes looked out onto the world.

...

'_It looks grim outside today. The perfect weather to match the perfect event',_ was the first thought that entered Arizona Robbins' mind that morning.

It was the morning of the reaping, and as ever, she awoke and had to run to the bathroom, for fear of being violently sick. Between dry retches, she had pulled back her fair hair, and glanced out of the window. Seen the gray, gloomy sky, and it was then that her first coherent thought had sprung from her mind. There was so much venom layered into the thought that she could almost feel it corrode through her cerebral cortex.

After letting out a bitter snort of laughter, Arizona pulled herself to her feet, a little unsteady at first, but gaining strength as she took the first steps forwards. As always on the day of the Reaping, the house was empty. It had been five years since her mother and father had helped their child prepare for the Reaping. Five years since…since Tim. She let out a small hiss of air from between her teeth, but refused to let herself dwell on the silence in the house, and what it meant.

It took a moment to regain herself, but soon she was ready. The blonde gave a little shrug, to try and roll off the immense tension & pressure that had collected there, but ultimately gave up and trudged on downstairs to dust of the musty dress that was pulled out of the near rotten wardrobe but once a year.

* * *

A satisfied grin, a tanned complexion, and a swish of dark raven hair was all that could be seen as the District Two female tribute swung herself from the marble platform onto the train. This was what she had been waiting for, for nearly eighteen solid years of her life. So, sure, she hadn't been able to hope for it when she was an extremely small child, but still, this was all she could ever remember wanting.

One hand trailing the expensive wooden panelling, the Latina strode through the expansive vestibule between carriages, before turning and sliding into a room marked clearly, in an elegant, cursive font, with her name. _'Calliope Torres'_, it said simply, but those two words were enough to send a shiver up her spine.

She had waited eighteen years to see those words on that door, and to hear her name be called out over the echoing announcement system, freshly imported from District Three each year. Now, that time was here, and it was even more perfect than she could possibly have imagined.

Throwing herself graceful onto the plush bed in the centre of the room, the girl trained her eyes on the television in front of her. She knew the scene playing out on those tiny pixels by heart – she had played it over and over to herself in the previous hours. Flicking the television off, she instead saw the entire moment, and the hours leading up to it in her mind. As it had been the prior fifty times she had relived it, it was inexplicably flawless.

...

As happened every year, Callie was awakened by a gentle weight on the end of her bed. Knowing that when she opened her eyes, her mother would be there, grim faced and stoic, she rolled over, pretending that she had not been up for half of the night, too full of anticipation to sleep.

"Calliope, I know you're awake", came the accented, gravely voice of her father, surprising her enough to make her open her eyes. A smile slipped onto her features as she pulled the eye mask off to reveal a well-tanned, calloused man, with deep eyes staring straight at her.

"Daddy? I thought you were at work", she said, before sitting up, and reaching forwards to fix her father in a tight embrace. The man reciprocated with an eye-wrinkling smile, and spoke, more quietly now, into her ear. "This is our year Calliope, I can feel it. Get yourself dressed and come downstairs. This is it. I can feel it." With that, the tanned man pulled away and stood, tucking a strand of hair behind his daughter's ear – all of his pride contained in that one gesture – before turning sharply and walking away.

The Latina watched as the sole authority figure in her life left the room, before springing out of her soft bed, and dancing over to her closet, in which were a selection of outfits, all worn before, but all ready to be worn again for this one special occasion. _'Daddy's right'_, she thought with a nod, _'This is my year.'_

Slipping into the perfect attire for the Reaping, she gave a shrug; readying herself for the excitable chaos that was sure to occur once she walked downstairs. Unlike her parents, she did have a mind for the darker side of the Games – for the casualties that occurred, and the lives that were broken in the process. However, unlike many people, she accepted that there was nothing that they, as a people, could do, so they should at least get the best they could from the Games.

After all, it had been drilled into her for all her life that there was no greater honour than to participate in the Games, and that every moment for eighteen years was to be spent preparing for them.


	2. Chapter 2

So, Chapter Two. Again, the first few chapters will just cover the two Reapings, and the character's responses to what they've been thrown into. Oh, and it won't be this serious the entire way through, so if you can manage the angst, read on? :P Once again, please review, if you could - constructive criticism especially!

* * *

As was the fashion for Arizona, she made her way over to another run down house – the one nearest to her – on the way to the Reaping. And as was the fashion for her best friend, Teddy was standing directly outside the dishevelled place. Nothing was said as the two fell into step beside each other, but a weak, phantom smile was exchanged between the two.

From behind (and the front, for that matter) it was clear that they were entirely dissimilar – almost contradicting each other with their appearances. One tall, rail thin young woman, her honey coloured hair pulled into a tight, but pretty ponytail; one slighter, more curved, younger girl, her own lighter flaxen tresses loose down her back.

Despite these differences, it was clear that the two women were homologous in more subtle ways – the set of their jaws was near identical, as was the steel in their eyes, and their measured paces. With Teddy, Arizona felt as if she was not entirely on her own – especially headed to the place that they were.

Both had lost a sibling to the building that lay ahead, and what it represented, and that made them more similar than any physical trait could have.

...

The process before the Reaping went quickly - the blood taking & name checking barely given a cursory thought in Arizona's mind, as she stood and waited for the moment she dreaded the most.

Time sped forwards as that moment approached, however. The presenter seemed to be talking far to quickly, and stumbled consistently over their lines. The video on the giant screen played out at double time, or so it seemed to Arizona.

Teddy was in the roped off section next to her, and the blonde could not help but throw her a pained look as the presenter – Althea Meniscus – drew the first name from the hideous goldfish bowl that contained the slips of paper which could change the course of lives.

"Arizona Robbins", came the words, in a crisp Capitol accent. Shock, and fear coursed through Arizona's body, taking a while to recognize that the name being called was her own.

Slowly, she began to move, in a dreamlike state, through the crowds to the stage. She caught sight of the horrified expression on her friend's face, but gave her a curt shake of her head, in one gesture explicitly stating that nothing was to be done. They had agreed on this. Teddy still had two younger siblings, and Arizona…Arizona had been picked once before, and her brother had volunteered in her place. She would not let some one loose their life for her again.

Arizona's legs grew heavier and heavier, and the blonde strained to keep them moving onwards. She could not stop now. This was where she was headed now, and there was nothing neither she, nor anybody else could do about it.

"Congratulations Arizona", came a voice, sparking the girl from her weary thoughts, "How does it feel to be part of the Games, at last?"

What did it feel like? It felt like the time she had fallen from the roof of her house whilst helping her father fix a leak. It felt like the pain she had experienced when she saw a wire snap tight around her brother's neck, choking him. It felt like the first time she had cut herself whilst in the woods – the huge gash that had stretched from her wrist to her elbow.

She would take the pain of those a thousand times over, and it would still not amount to what she was feeling now. Those feelings were a feather bed at night, a cool drink on a hot day compared to how she felt now.

A few more rough words pulled her from her reverie, and she jumped as a calloused hand was thrust towards her. Startled, she looked up, her eyes wide and her movements abrupt. Evidently, the Capitol lapdog presenter had given up on trying to extract a response from his first tribute, and had already called the second one. Slowly, she extended her own, smaller, palm to the paw that was outstretched and shook it firmly.

Looking up finally, she saw the face watching her own. It was broad, with dark hair and even darker eyes. _'Percy. Charles Percy'_, her mind informed her, dredging up an images of a boy as he grew up – changing in size and muscularity, but never in the colour of his eyes or hair.

It was then that it hit her. She stood no chance. Here stood a mountain of a man, with a year of age, and edging towards 100lbs on her. And he was just one of twenty-three people out to kill her.

A rough hand settled itself firmly onto her shoulder, and gave her a gentle shove into the mayor's hall building that stood behind her. Everything was blurring now, and she barely had time to register the fading light before she realised the doors were closing behind her. One echoing slam, and she was away from what she had always known.

* * *

The day of the Reaping had arrived, and it flew past. There were some celebrations in the streets, and people were laughing and chatting to each other. Only a few faces were sombre in District Two.

The line to register moved quickly and smoothly, as there were no disturbances in this place. Every one was too eager to get things moving. Like every boy and girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen, in every district of Panem, every person in the crowds was praying that their name would not be picked.

However, in this District, it was for an entirely different reason than in the other ten.

If you were picked, it meant that you were basically out of the running. If you were picked, immediately, nearly every person in the square would volunteer immediately. And if you were picked, it meant that you could not volunteer. If you were picked, you would not be participating in the Hunger Games.

Because of this, the actual name calling ceremony was rather rushed through, as it always was.

Two names were picked and Callie breathed a sigh, as her name was not called. In an orderly fashion, the youths assembled in the plaza began to call out two words, one by one. '_I volunteer. I volunteer as Tribute'_ was heard all through the town, echoing off the marble buildings.

Callie added her voice to the fray, and began to smile a little. _'Let the fun begin'._

_..._

It took three hours of waiting – a comparatively short time – before the mayor & the chief peacekeepers entered the square once more. How they picked the Tributes from among those who had volunteered was unknown, but Callie had settled in for a long wait, and was surprised to see the stout figures of power march from the building.

An amplified click was heard as the speaker system was turned on once more, and the chatter in the plaza became void. All eyes were fixed on the men on the platform. Not a soul seemed to even breathe.

"The volunteers have been chosen." came the echoing voice – one that seemed oddly mismatched with the stout, bald man speaking, "Marcus Sloan, and Calliope Torres, are our Tributes."

A frown was already in place on Callie's brow. Preparing to not be picked - for the last eighteen years to be in vain – Callie had steeled herself, had shut herself off from the hive mentality around her.

This was her last chance, her last reaping.

What she was not prepared for was her name to be called. And it was. The Latina's mouth dropped open in shock, before moving soundless for a few moments. An unknown hand gave her a gentle shove in the small of her back, and she was pushed forwards, towards the oak platform. On the other side of the square, she could see ripples in the crowd where the same was being done to her fellow Tribute.

She was hurried inside, for things quickly became volatile after the volunteer Tributes were announced, and not given time to digest the new she was given. She was the female tribute for District Two. She would represent the district of masonry in the eighty-ninth annual Hunger Games.

Not only would she do that, but in her mind, there was not a question about it: she would win.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three, and Calzona are just about to meet. All of these chapters have been written in a rush, and so the reaping and the train ride, and probably the training of them are brief in description. This chapter is really rough around the edges, and I don't think I've done Calzona justice with their first meeting, so any advice would be nice :)

* * *

Arizona was bored.

She had been on the train for a day and she was bored already. It had taken her all of the first night, and nearly the entire first day to come to terms with what had happened to her.

She had watched the tape of her Reaping over and over, to convince herself that it had actually happened, and this was not just some cruel trick by her psyche.

If only.

After staying up for the entire night, her acceptance had come in the morning, after seeing Charles at breakfast, and her mentor, Colin Marlowe, deep in discussion concerning tactics in the Arena. It had come when she saw a potential ally or enemy getting help that she wasn't.

**"What took you so long Blondie?"**, came the harsh, chipped, archaic accent from her weathered mentor, **"Bigfoot has been here since six o'clock, and now knows how to trip an attacker."**

If she wanted to stay alive then, apparently, Arizona would have to buck up her ideas about reasonable times to wake up in the morning, and fighting dirty.

Since that wake up call, she had spent the day discussing the 'basic do's and don'ts' of the arena, courtesy of Colin. He was a fossil, was condescending and harsh, however because he was a fossil he had trained reams of Tributes, and he was condescending purely because he had done what he was doing so many times before.

...

By eight o'clock that evening, the blonde was fully prepped and learned on what would be useful to learn in training, and what to try and do during the first week or so whilst she was in the Arena. Physically, she felt as if her every nerve was vibrating, and she was nearly missing the finger-aching carving she did whilst she was working. Not only this, her mind was also on edge – tingling with newly learned, vital information.

Arizona couldn't sleep, and now she was bored. If Colin was still drilling her, she wouldn't be. It was insane how being enclosed in pressurised moving metal tube made her go stir crazy during one day, but still, she could not stand it within the four decorative walls of her room.

Silently, Arizona eased open the polished mahogany door that had most likely cost more than her family's roughly constructed cabin, and slipped into the still corridor. One of the first genuine smiles in days slid onto her features, and she began to slink through into the vestibule that connected the different District's carriages.

* * *

Unbeknown to her, Callie was as bored as her counterpart six carriages along the train. She, herself, had slept late, and had missed some 'vital' advice given to Mark by their mentor – a relic called Dixon who would not make contact with either of them.

The Latina had spent the day extremely disconnected from the discussion around her. She knew it all, any way, and so did Mark, but still, he was eagerly batting it back and forth with McDinosaur.

However, there was just one part of the day that had caught her attention: the videos of the other District's reapings.

She watched as some of the other Tributes burst out in tears as their names were called, whilst one actually fainted – a mousy girl from District Eleven named Kepner. She smiled as she saw the District One & Four Tributes – the other careers - who looked competent, to say the least.

A single non-career Tribute caught her eye.

She was blonde, and looked to be about five-foot-five. She was underweight, but had a wiry toughness about her. Unlike the tributes from the other 'weaker' Districts, as her name was called, her face shut down, and became a mask of calm, instead of the dam-burst of emotion that was most common.

She was pretty, but it was her name that caught Callie the most. Arizona Robbins. It was unusual, especially to Callie. Most of her own District had Roman or Greek based names, whilst the District Seven Tribute had a name which originated from the country which was before Panem – a kind of blasphemy, as such.

...

Still, it was best not to dwell on the Tributes which did not pose that much of a threat. Still, the face of the blonde haunted her throughout the day, and still it lingered as Callie was staring out of the train window. Hearing a crash, and a whoosh of air, then a slam, Callie spun, her hand going to the ankle holster in which a dagger was kept.

As she looked towards the door, she heard raised voices, yet what she saw disturbed her more. The blonde who had been haunting her all day stood, leaning against the door, panting.

**"Please don't yell."**, the blonde said softly, an inexplicably sexy smile on her face nearly discounting the tremor in Arizona's voice as she spoke.

* * *

Arizona had been gliding inaudibly through the carriages, taking note of the gold embossed names on each of the mahogany doors similar to hers. She had nearly been at the middle of the train – just leaving the District Six carriage when she heard voices, saw a flash of white. Peacekeepers.

**"Crap. Crap."**, muttered Arizona, picking up her pace, and trying to look legitimate enough to be strolling the carriages at one in the morning. This did not work. Turning, the Peacekeepers began to walk faster, and one called out, **"Miss, you shouldn't be here."**

And so the chase began. The Peacekeepers probably thought that Arizona was an anti-Capitol activist trying to blow up the train, in their own right, but there was no need to pursue her, in Arizona's mind. In fact, she only ran to avoid being ripped a new asshole by Colin.

They chased her through the carriages to District Three – through the plush coaches of Five & Four, and it was then that Arizona realized that she was nearing the end of the train. **"Shit."**, she mumbled, breathless from sprinting. Dashing into the second to last coach, she hit the 'close door' button, and jammed the door by desperately hitting the control panel for the automatic open system.

Her hair flying about her, she dived into the nearest room, taking in the cursive gold letters before slamming the door behind her. Looking up, she saw a flash of raven hair, and tanned skin. She was looking at the possessor of the unique name on the door. Calliope Torres.

...

**"Please don't yell"**, was the only thing that she could say, her brain overwhelmed, a wry smile slipping onto her features as she considered the luck in diving into a beautiful woman's compartment, instead of some misogynist male Tribute or, worse, a coach that belonged to the very Peacekeepers she was trying to avoid.

**"So you expect me not to scream if a random tousled headed stranger, who might have some hidden agenda, comes diving into my private room?"**, was Callie's response, relaxing her hand from grasping position it was in by her ankle. It was the Seven Tribute, a little red in the face, but still managing to look feverishly attractive.

The blonde blushed a little at the response, but moved away from the door, more comfortable that the Career would not turn her in.

**"I'm sure you can look after yourself, so really, there's no need to yell, is there?"**, was the sly response, Arizona's eyes flicking down the Latina's body to rest on where Callie's dagger was concealed.

It was Callie's turn to blush, as she drew the dagger out as tossed it lightly onto the wooden dresser by the doubled bed. She saw Arizona cringe as shouting drew closer, and noted it silently. Oddly, the blonde seemed to grow more at ease by the second, and slid to sit down on the bed, her breathing levelling slightly.

**"Okay, so you got me. Still, there's a rather large elephant in the room, which needs to be forcefully removed, so I'll make an effort to start"**, said Callie, with a roll of her eyes, **"What are you doing in my room, on my bed, Blondie?"**

Arizona raised an eyebrow and waited a few seconds to allow Callie to appreciate all of the smart remarks she could have made in reply, but didn't. The Latina flushed further, making Arizona grin.

**"I think that's for you to be deciding, not me. But, I can think of several things I could be doing..."**, Arizona replied sweetly, savouring every syllable, before hearing a knock on the door, and a Capitol accent call out for Callie to open the door, _**"Crap. Correction: as much as I'd love to be letting you have your way with me, I'm getting chased by Peacekeepers."**_

Unwillingly, Arizona felt herself start to flirt openly. It was involuntary, but Arizona did not try and stop it, despite the fact that it could have been considered extremely creepy.

...

What was to come next made Arizona gasp.

A strong arm slid around her waist and pulled her backwards. In a second since the knock, Callie had grabbed her, and pulled her down under the bed, gently, but firmly manoeuvring her in a way that was nearly frightening.

Arizona was surprised that her flirting had such a result, when she realised Callie was trying to hide her from Peacekeepers, and not trying to seduce her. _'Well, my luck just fell through'_, Arizona thought, pouting in the darkness under the four-poster, until she felt another body slide into the darkness behind her.

The blonde opened her mouth to speak, but Callie quickly reached from behind to fix a soft hand around the blonde's mouth to stop her speaking. Arizona's words caught in her throat, so even if she had wanted to, she could not have tried to speak through the fingers over her lips.

Callie heard the door open, and bit her lip, unconsciously pulling Arizona closer to her, her hand still on the other's woman's mouth. Her palm tingled from the contact with the blonde, and her breathing hitched as Arizona's body complied to her wishes and leant back against hers.

**"Miss. Torres?"**, came a deep voice,** "Are you here?"**

A cautious step forwards on the wooden floorboards was heard by the two women, and both their breathing hitched.

Suddenly, making them both startle, a high-pitched woman's giggle came through the panelling next to them. _'Thank you Mark.'_ came a voice of relief in Callie's head. Normally, she disapproved of her friend's promiscuous actions, but at that moment, she was grateful.

**"Kids…"**, came the grumbled complaint from the Peacekeeper, as he briefly checked the bathroom, then the wardrobe for an intruder, **"Typical. They're about to die and they're messing around with each other."** The two women held their breath until they heard the door shut, until Callie burst out in a fit of giggles.

Arizona felt Callie's body vibrate with the action, and she turned facing Callie, and somehow still in her arms. She began to laugh too, and soon, the two were nearly in tears in each other's arms, their sides aching as they lay in the darkness.

All Arizona could feel was Callie's arms around her, shaking lightly, her ears filled with the melodic sound of the Latina's laughter. All Callie could feel was the blonde in her arms, shaking gently, and the small light, lilting chuckles with played a tune across every pathway in Callie's body.

In both of their minds, there was no where either would rather be.

Slowly the laughter ceased, and both Callie and Arizona missed it. They lay in silence for a while before one of them spoke again.

**"So you never told me the full story, how did you end up here, under my bed with me?"**, Callie murmured, in a voice which made Arizona shiver.

**"I couldn't sleep, everything is just to much to deal with. So I decided to take a walk. I was at the District Six carriage when the peacekeepers saw me. So I ran away. My mentor would have gone ape if I had been caught. Like I said, they think I'm a terrorist. I'm not, honestly, and I'm not generally in a habit of blundering into stunning women's rooms"**

They slipped back into silence, and after a very pregnant pause which neither wanted to break, Arizona pulled her head from where it was resting on Callie's chest. Immediately, the duo felt the loss between them.

**"I-, um…I'd better go."**, came Arizona's hesitant words. At the words, Callie's arms tightened then drew back, defeated.

**"I guess you'd better"**, sighed the Latina, begging to slide from the darkness under the bed. Arizona did the same on the other side, standing as Callie did – watching the other girl for a moment as she walked around the gleaming, grand, bed to stand in front of Arizona.

Neither of them spoke, but both hoped the other could see what was plainly in both of their faces. It was insane, and far to sudden for Arizona's liking, but she felt a sharp twinge at the thought of leaving the room.

Unconsciously, she pouted a little, until she spotted the smirk on Callie's mouth. **"Not too keen on leaving me, Arizona?"**, were the teasing words to accompany the smirk, along with the casual dropping of the fact that the raven-haired woman in front of her knew her name.

**"If only you knew, Calliope"**, came the far more serious reply, a smile creeping across Arizona's features, as she recalled the name on the door.

**"It's Callie."**, an exasperated Callie uttered.

**"After closeting away with me under your bed, I think I can call you what I like, Calliope."**, was the smug reply, and smirk.

Another silence filled the air between them.

**"I guess I'd better go…",** Arizona mumbled, repeating her earlier sentiment, tearing herself away from the brown eyes that had been boring into her own. Callie just nodded, "I guess so."

**"I'll see you around?"**, asked the blonde, hating the space between them, and wanting to just reach over and be in contact with the woman in front of her once more.

**"Why would you even doubt that?**", Callie said, before crossing the space between them, and gently putting her arms around the blonde again, giving her a gentle squeeze.

A sigh escaped Arizona's lips as Callie's breath tickled her ear, and she rested her head by Callie's clavicle, breathing in the woman's smell, before pulling lightly away and heading for the door.

**"Goodnight, Calliope"**, she said shyly, slipping out of the door and into the hall.

...

As she stood on her own, and unknowingly mirroring the movements of the Latina she had just left, she shook her head to herself and proceeded to slink back to her own carriage, her head full of thoughts of one stunning tanned woman.

Neither of them got much sleep that night.


	4. Chapter 4

"Ready?", a rough voice asked from behind Arizona, squeezing her lightly on the shoulder as she stood, her eyes wide, as the train pulled into the station.

When the blonde made no answer, the voice behind her pushed on, "Remember smile, be happy. These insane people think you're overjoyed to be here. You're a cute, bubbly little blonde. Play to your image. Sell yourself."

Turning, Arizona shot a dark look at her mentor, before making eye contact with Charles. He was made to play to the image of being tough, and indestructible – stoic beyond the end of the earth – which wouldn't be hard for him.

However, it still was a stretch for the colossus beside her; he had confessed to being fairly mild, and liberal, after she had teased him during dinner the previous night. Arizona liked him, but was trying not to get to attached.

She had a thing for fixing things – fixing people – and the boy beside her needed to be fixed. He was strong, but he was worried and tense, and had a tendency to faint at the sight of a lot of blood. It was a physical pain for her not to try to help him.

Still, there was no time for sympathy. Since her midnight adventure - which, as serendipity would have it, had given her a spark to keep her boredom at bay - she had been more focused, and had been restored to her usual, perky-self, rather than the cynic which took over her body during the week or the Reaping.

The day that followed that, she had been alert, and actively listening to her mentor for the first time. Now it was late at night, nearly the time that twenty-four hours ago, she had stumbled across Callie. Arizona had not seen the Latina again, and there had been messages delivered to tell the Tributes that there was a possible threat onboard the train, so seeing her again was unlikely, until training began in the Capitol.

Colin had spent the day preparing them for their entrance into the Capitol. It would be loud, and there would be people jamming the station full to see their first glimpses of that year's Tributes_. 'Be happy, play to your image',_ had been the advice given to her all day. She could do that even if she couldn't fight, or be menacing like Charles was.

The door slid open with a blast of purified air, and the noise hit her ears, nearly making her reel in shock. There were people everywhere, with strange coloured hair (or were they wigs?), and skin, laughing and screeching the Tribute's names.

She felt a large hand grab hers, and looked up to see Charles staring concernedly down at her. Biting her lip, and giving him a nod, they walked together through the fray to the opposite end of the station, where an armed escort waited with their names on a white placard.

Glancing over to see where the other Tributes were, Arizona caught a glimpse of Callie, surrounded by a group of admirers. And with a hand firmly slipped around the Latina's waist was man – the other District Two tribute, from the looks of things. Jealously bubbled up inside of the blonde, causing her to rip her hand from Charles' and to catch Callie's eyes with her own blue irate ones.

Unhappy, and extremely irked, Arizona stalked into the car that awaited her, unsure if she was more angry at herself for feeling jealous of a man she did not know – jealous having his hand on a women she barely knew – or more angry at the Latina for letting the man have his hands on her.

Turning her body towards the window, she stared out into the crowd, hoping to see something that would distract. New people, faces, colours, clothing, features & buildings could have shifted her interest, but her mind remained fixed on the image on a rough, calloused hand on the woman's waist.

Ignoring her mentor, stuttering out last minute words of 'help' Callie tapped her foot, and fiddled with the hem of her shirt, impatient for the doors to open. This was her time, and she would do what she needed to do, regardless of the fact that the Capitol had still not released the details of the Quarter Quell.

The doors slid open, and she stepped out immediately, a one million watt smile on her face, and Mark stepping out in time with her. Glancing up the station, she saw the blonde – Arizona – from the previous night with her hand firmly engulfed in the Goliath's beside her. Feeling a twinge in her gut, she turned sharply from the sight of the couple, and did not complain, as she would usually have done, when Mark slipped his hand around her waist.

A glance to her right caught her out and left her hanging. A pair of blue eyes were turned her way, and were blazing with a nearly unfathomable emotion within them. The blonde's expression seemed to turn on a dime as she wrenched her hand from Bigfoot's and stalked off to where the District 7 bodyguard was situated.

Callie bit her lip and turned, not knowing what had caused the response in the girl five bays away from her.

Trying to dismiss the thought, Callie waved to the crowd, and keeping an eye out for Arizona in her peripheral vision, began to walk forwards. Step by step, her companion and her cleared the crowd and made their way to the waiting escort bay.

She slipped into a sleek black car of some model – the door held open for her by Mark – and sat, letting out a long sigh of relief to be removed from the hungry eyes of the Capitol's people.

"Drive", came a deep, gravelly voice from beside her, and the convoy began to move, carrying its precious cargo closer to their deaths.

The opening ceremony was a blur for Arizona: a mixture of bright lights, overpowering noise, and sticky air blasting down upon her. She could remember her dress – a deep green gown and silver jewellery. Charles was dressed in a ridiculous green tunic-type ensemble, and somehow, their stylist had conceived the idea of putting eyeliner on him a good idea.

Still, they laughed about it as their finishing touches were put on, and as they were stepping onto the sleek pine chariot, with two large, muscular draft-type horses pulling it.

The music played as they entered the stadium caused Arizona to feel nauseous. It was a triumphant anthem, meant for a victory, not to celebrate twenty-four teenagers before all but one of them died.

Again, somehow, her hand remained clutched around Charles' for most of the extravaganza, leaving his hand with white marks where she had squeezed it so tightly the blood had been cut off. He, however, only complained good-naturedly about it, teasing her on her quirks that had come out in the spot light, but not denying her them.

Charles reminded Arizona of her brother, and the thought was one of mixed emotions. She missed her brother, but was proud of him. Tim died in the Games, and now it was a possibility that Charles would too. Her jaw clenched as a small whimper escaped her at the thought. She had seen eighteen Reapings, and was used to the sight of the different sized coffins that came back to her District.

In spite of the this, her throat choked up when she thought of the large coffin that would await him – a large one than Tim's had been, but still in the style of the 'men's' burial.

She caught just one glimpse of Calliope in the whole event. The Latina was dressed in a white toga – her hair pulled back in an intricate braid on the back of her head – and shimmered in the light. Gold adorned her arms and throat making her seem fluid in the light. A quick glance was all that Arizona got, but it was enough. She was literally breath taking.

Then, the Latina was gone, and the horses were driven back out of the stadium. The Tributes tawdry, narcissistic, overseers bustled along, taking the Tributes back to where they would stay for their week and a half of training. 'The Grand Tour' was something Arizona paid no heed to. She cared not of the grandness of the rooms, or of the luxury of the furnishings

All she wanted to do was to go back home, to see Tim to alive and to get inside the head of the woman who plagued her thoughts so consistently. She could do none of these things so, instead, she crawled into the feather bed that dominated her room, and tried to drift off into a comatose state where anything was possible.

Callie had watched with a laugh as Bigfoot had make-up smeared on him by the District Seven stylist. Her own dress was simple, and finished, so she had begun to amuse herself, instead, with watching the other hideous costumes be assembled on the nearby Tributes.

Arizona looked stunning, to say the least, in Callie's opinion. The green dress she was wearing clung to her in all of the right places, and she seemed so at ease – laughing and messing around with Bigfoot as they waited to be let into the stadium.

Seeing them playfully talk, Callie felt…excluded. Sure, Mark and herself talked and teased, but never quite in the sibling-type way that the two that she was watching did. She found herself growing jealous of the dark-haired man with Arizona, who was toying with the blonde by holding something out of her reach and making her jump for it.

Eventually, Arizona gave up, and Bigfoot handed her the object, leading her to give him a high-five, and a radiant expression that made Callie's heart stop.

After that, her stylist demanding her attention, Callie caught not sight of Arizona for the rest of the evening. Soon after they had been withdrawn from the public eye, they were taken to their rooms, and half-listening to Mark's attempts to seduce one of the Avoxes who served upon them, Callie cloistered herself into her room, and began to doze on her bed, dreaming of a certain radiant smile


	5. Chapter 5

So, Chapter Five. Things are going to become more Calzona-centric soon, whilst their in their week of training, so stick around for some nice fluff. Also, thanks to the five people who reviewed. Means a lot to me 3 ;)

* * *

Silently, Arizona stood at the edge of the room, nearly obscured by the spare dummies piled up in a heap of fake, shiny flesh. She gave a dry, sardonic, chuckle as she saw that there were twenty-three of the mannequins - each as lifeless as the next.

'_Just like twenty three of us will be in under two weeks',_ she thought, her blue eyes becoming steely as she watched the Careers, and the few other Tributes either hanging around with them, or trailing in their wake. Her eyes fixed on the beautiful Latina, the one from the previous day, and the raven hair that hung past her shoulders, which shimmered in the harsh light from the training room.

Suddenly – unexpectedly - a pair of dark brown eyes flicked around to meet hers, nearly stunning her senseless as she watched.

'_Shit'_, thought Arizona, blushing profusely, and turning her head away, _'you just got caught staring at the lethal District Two Career who dragged you under her bed. Way to go, girl.'_

A derisive murmur escaped her lips, before the slender girl lifted her head and scraped her hair back into a long high ponytail and slipped out from her vantage point, still determinedly looking away from the Latina who had caught her gaze a few moments earlier.

'_Shit. Shit. Shit. She's smirking',_ though Arizona, groaning internally as she hazarded a glance back, only to spin away again, as if scalded.

Feeling those eyes burn holes into her back, she headed for the wood carving station – the only thing she was favoring in training so far, along with knife training, because it was the only thing she could really do.

* * *

Callie had felt eyes on her, and had turned accordingly, catching the blonde's eyes as she swivelled around. A sultry smirk had slipped onto her lips, and she had held the icy blue eyes until they looked away, embarrassed.

After the train ride, and the anger, and possibly jealous shown by Arizona as she looked at Callie, the Latina felt drawn to the blonde, in a very big kind of way. In a way that was like - _'if we weren't about too fight to the death, I'd like to take you to dinner, and actually get to know you. But still, now I'm going to try very hard not to let my friends kill you in the arena'_

__Now, as they had a week of training - compared with the four days Tributes had before President Webber was in charge - she would make the most of it, and try to talk the blonde into an alliance with her. That way, the killing problem, and the getting to know problem would be solved. And, you know, Callie was not averse to more late-night run-ins with Arizona...

As the other girl turned away, Callie's eyes drifted up and down her body, taking in every curve with an insidious pleasure. A larger smile lit up her face as she watched the shapely hips flick from side to side, and it took a large shove from Mark to get her to look away.

As she turned back to her fellow careers she saw a number of things: Jackson & Cristina ignoring the human weakness she was showing (themselves as aloof as ever), Derek trying not to laugh, Mark looking extremely embarrassed for his friend, and a growing, mischievous smile on Addison's face.

**"You look like you're about to pounce on her and tear her clothes off"**, Addison commented, unabashed by the glower on her friend's face, **"Mark, head over there and ask Blondie if she wants to join us. Maybe if Pixie Girl is here with us, then Callie will actually have her mind in the game, instead of being off in lesbian fantasy land with her."**

Callie panicked, and the emotion spilt onto her face, making her fellow Careers chuckle even more. She tried to lunge at Mark, but he quickly sidestepped – agile for a man of his size. She watched helpless, as her fellow Tribute, Career & friend swaggered over to where the blond sat.

Turning to Addison, a growl escaped her lips, **"As soon as we break alliances in the Arena. You're the first one I'm going to kill."** To her surprise, Addison just laughed. Maybe the whole scaring tactic wasn't going to work after all.

* * *

**"Hey there"**

Arizona was startled as she heard a deep, inexplicably sexy man's voice. Well, it would have been sexy, had Arizona not been entirely into women.

She looked up from the half finished climbing pegs she was making to see the familiar face of the career she had seen laughing with Callie, a slick grin plastered on his sly features.

It made her angry: he was the one who had his hand around her waist. And now he was here, trying to wheedle something out of her. There was no chance of that happening.

The man reached forwards, trying to take one of the climbing pegs to examine it, when he stopped abruptly at the sharp whooshing noise, and a thud. Between his spread fingers on the table was a long, elaborate knife, still wobbling from side to side as its tip was stuck in the table surface.

The hand that clenched the handle of the knife was white knuckled, and when Mark looked up, Arizona's jaw was clenched, and her eyes narrowed.

**"Okay, okay, I get it. Don't touch your stuff. Duly noted."**

When his response failed to elicit any reaction, he continued, seemingly figuring that it was best to strike when the iron was hot.

**"So, we were wondering, 'cause we've been watching you…any chance you'd like to hang out with us. Get a grasp on what we plan to do. We've got your back if you do – in here, and when we get in **_**there**_**. So, what do you say?"**

The man gave his best, most charming, grin, and pulled the knife from the table, palming the blade and offering her the handle. Arizona took the knife gently, and narrowed her eyes ever so slightly, before leaning back, offering a sweet smile.

**"Oooh? No."**, came the reply, complete with a dimpled, sweet grin, obviously taking great pleasure in denying the man what he wanted, **"Because I find when I look at you all I want to hit you with bricks."**

****From the look on the man's face, it took him a little while to process the information. She was not interested - obviously something that he was not used to hearing.

The man frowned, apparently finally getting the picture that Arizona was not interested, despite the covert looks she had been throwing Callie all day. , **"Are you sure? I mean, think about what you're giving up."**

**"Hmm, no, because you – the lot of you - are monsters."** She pulled a grimace, and tilted her head to one side, raising her eyebrows when the man – Mark, she thought his name was – did not stand and leave. **"Dude, run away, before I find the brick."**

The man stood, his face sulky looking – a sulky child-like pout slipping onto his features that made Arizona want to burst out laughing. **"Whatever."** he said, a little heinously now, **"We don't need you. You're nothing. The only reason I asked was because Callie told me to. Have fun dying."**

Surprised, Arizona was shocked into civility, **"Wait, sorry...Calliope asked you to ask me?"**

He gave a curt nod and, with that, he stabbed the knife into the table once more, and stalked off, back to his pack of friends.

It was only then that Arizona, when she glanced over to the careers, saw the Latina grinning from ear to ear; a million watt smile that took her breath way utterly. The other women tipped her head to one side; black locks swaying gently as she did so, and winked overtly at Arizona.

* * *

Training flew by for the rest of the day. Callie and the Careers went from station to station, throwing their heads back in laughter as they aced nearly everything, over and over again, whilst Arizona worked quietly on the smaller, less confrontational stalls, occasionally meeting up with Charles to talk briefly.

The only thing that was constant throughout the day; the only thing that kept Callie from falling asleep from both boredom and exertion, was the sight of the blond as she moved from stall to stall, and the looks that passed between them when they caught each other's eyes.

* * *

They were on the same stall for all of ten minutes, but the tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife – perhaps the one which was still stabbed into the table where Mark had left it.

It was the knot tying station – one that Arizona had deemed safe from the interference of the Careers.

The expert had turned away for a moment, leaving Arizona to fumble with a particularly difficult knot. A curse slipped out from her lips, and Arizona sighed, shutting her eyes for a moment.

Footsteps behind her made her jolt, and she recoiled a little from the noise. Frowning, she focused on the knot trying to drown out the catcalls from the Careers, and the noise made by the other stations.

Arizona jolted again, this time as she saw two hands reach from behind her, and guide her fingers through the knot she was trying to do. Turning, ready to snap at whoever thought they could swan up to her, and put their hands all over her.

**"Excuse me—"**, she said, as she turned her head to see the possessor of the talented fingers, trailing off as she came face to face with the warm eyes that had been following her all day.

Her mouth gaped wide open for a moment, floundering as she tried to remember anything to say that did not involve commenting on the perfection to the face in front of her.

'_''__', _was the single continuous thought running through Arizona's head at that moment, and one she knew she couldn't speak. Luckily for her, and her less than appropriate thoughts, she was saved from having to continue.

**"I'm trying to help. And you're struggling, so excuse yourself"**, were the words that slipped from the Latina's lips, struggling to find words which sounded entirely platonic, and not at all flirty.

She diverted finally Arizona's attention back to the knot in front of her, and began to unravel it, showing gently how it was to be done. **"It's a butterfly knot"**, Callie said, once the blond had seemed to relax somewhat with the Latina at her back, **"So you have to be quite delicate with it."**

Callie began to tie the knot again, doing it first on her own, and then moving Arizona's hands through it, step by step. It was calming, and the warmth exuding from the smaller woman in front of her comforted her some more.

As much as she tried to string it out, she could not stand with her arms nearly embracing the blonde, with their hands entwined forever. Slowly, as Arizona got the hang of the knot, Callie pulled away, pausing only to whisper, **"There, you've got it"**, in Arizona's ear before turning sharply, and walking away, back to the other careers, her heart racing, but not daring to look back.

Arizona opened her mouth to protest as Callie spoke, but was silenced by the breath on her neck, and the tingling bush of lips near her ear. She was silenced further as she felt the heat at her back disappear, and the wonderful guiding hands slip from hers.

All of a sudden, she felt very cold, and the room felt very empty with the absence of the beautiful Latina.


	6. Chapter 6

As promised, a Calzona-centric chapter. Thank you, once again, to those who have reviewed (this might become a chapterly thanks :P), for taking the time to do so. Who do you think should come into the story more prominently, as an obstacle for Callie & Arizona? I was thinking Erica, George, or Mark, but let me know if you have any ideas

* * *

It was dark, and all the Tributes were aching by the time the first training session finished. Even the Careers, who had done something similar for the entirety of their lives, had been worked to exhaustion. This, however, was what was to be expected of training.

The thing that added insult to injury was that they were to attend the Tribute's Ball tonight – a televised event where the Tributes dressed up and danced together, allowing for them to form alliances without the threat of weapons in close proximity. It had been introduced after two Tributes had got in a skirmish over a broken alliance during training, and nearly killed each other, about ten years ago. Again, this was President Webber's more liberal system coming into play, with the added support of the head of the Games – Miranda Bailey.

...

Arizona was sore, and aching, her upper body especially, from being drilled constantly in knot tying, and knife fighting. They had spent their first day on skills that they excelled at, so the blonde was dreading the next part of the week even more; they would have to work on skills they found difficult.

On the other hand, Callie was fatigued, but felt alive. She had relished the physical training, but was dreading the stalls that required the identification of plants and other such things. She was intelligent, and given the time, she could grasp it, however, her father had focused on the combat aspects of her training, and there was never any need to find plants for food as they did in the poorer Districts.

One-by-one, they filed from the training room and it's stuffy, warm air, and passed the through the scanners that prevented them from sneaking weapons & equipment from the room. Callie noted with a smirk that Cristina had already been caught trying to smuggle out a fine set of throwing knives to practise, as she passed through the hidden scanners and was now sulking at having them confiscated.

Staying for as long as possible before having to leave, Arizona slipped out of the room. '_Callie was one of the first people out, so there was not a lot of chance of a sighting of her, or even a chance to talk',_ thought the blonde with a sigh as she left, catching sight of Charles dark head walking & talking around the corner with the pixie-like girl from Three.

From the looks he was throwing her, and the way he kept laughing for too long at most of what she said, it was quite clear that an alliance with her was just one on a list of objectives of his.

* * *

Watching the other Tributes, Arizona forgot one rather vital thing: to look where she was going. Stumbling, she fell against a wall, catching & steadying herself with one hand, and wobbling precariously before strong hands grabbed her hips from behind.

**"This is the second time today you've needed my help"**, was the teasing voice that accompanied the hands – one the Arizona was used to sneaking up on her by now.

Willing herself not just to break down and flirt back, Arizona spun and grabbed one of Callie's wrists, yanking her into a small, quiet, deserted corridor, out of sight of the other Tributes.

**"Whaaaat—"**, was the oh-so-eloquent response from the Latina, and Arizona was surprised to find that she enjoyed catching her off guard.

Sucking in a deep breath, and turning to face the Tribute behind her, she began to talk, a crease in her eyebrows appearing in concentration.

**"Okay so, Callie, here goes."**, she began, **"We've know each other for two days. And barely even that. And you dragged me under your bed, which is always a great sign in a girl, but still. And then today in training? That was great. But I don't know you, and you don't know me, and it's not that I don't want to know you, it's the fact that we can't get to know each other, because eventually, you're going to have to kill me."**

Pausing, she shot Callie a glare as the Latina tried to interrupt her., **" Don't shake your head, you know you will. You're stronger than me, and I won't last a day in the Games and yeah, I'd love to know you, like I said, but it would just make this more painful for you when you win. So yeah, you're great, honestly but I can't – I mean we can't – do this, it's not that I don't want to bu—"**

Callie had watched Arizona ramble, and had decided it was one of her all time favourite things. It was not the fact that she wasn't listening to what the blonde had to say – it was the fact that she had already thought through what the blonde had to say. Over and over again in her head, so she had discounted it, in her own mind.

The dark-haired woman had already tried to open her mouth to speak several times, but was not given a chance to speak by the blonde. Given their close proximity (Arizona had stepped in close when commencing her monologue), the move made by Callie was unconscious, a mixture of desire and necessity stepping, and firing her actions for her.

With a swift move, she reached forwards and cupped Arizona's face in her hands, capturing her lips in a soft kiss, cutting her off in midsentence, and disregarding every objection that Arizona had made.

Startled, Arizona jerked back, and then relaxed. This was what she had wanted, regardless of how wrong it was. It felt right, and that was what mattered. It was rare, and the sweetest thing Arizona had ever tasted. Her breathing hitched, and a shaky breath shuddered through her as she curved her body around Callie. It was three days of accumulated desire, which may not have seemed like a lot, but it was enough, combined with the dispelling of ethical dilemmas that Arizona had faced that made it nearly perfect.

What made it one-of-a-kind was the woman with her lips pressed to the blondes. Her head spinning, Arizona broke away, and leaned her forehead against Callie's, her eyes shut and her breathing ragged. She began to speak again, her lips brushing Callie's as she talked, tingling with the sensation that had been withdrawn moment ago.

**"I-I can't…It's too soon…and we're Tributes…and we can't be together…",** were Arizona's fragmented justifications, each punctuated with a light kiss from Callie, which sent shivers through her. A small moan escaped her lips, and she caved in, **"Aaaand, I'm out of excuses…"**

Tugging lightly on the lapels of Callie's training uniform, she shifted closer, biting her lip with a twinkle in her eye.

**"You see? None of it matters. So shut up."**, was the jesting, murmured response, the other woman leaning forward to brush their lips together once more.

* * *

Another shiver travelled through Arizona as she felt Callie's hands slide to her hips, and she felt weak at the knees, using the wall behind her to hold her up, and she traced the Latina's body lightly with her hands.

Callie let herself be pulled forwards, and gently pushed Arizona against the wall, supporting the blonde with her arms.

The kiss was unlike anything Callie had experienced before. It was hot, and steamy, to a certain extent, sure, but it was more than that. It was contentment – the feeling that it did not matter about their situation.

Soon, however, lust took over, and the kiss became more frantic, a more desperate edge to it, cutting into them both, their lips speeding up, and shaping themselves around each other.

This time, Callie was the first to break the kiss. She exhaled quietly, and ducked her face in to kiss Arizona on her neck, moving her lips lightly down to the blonde's collarbone.

**"So...where do we go now?"**, whispered Arizona, feeling really fucking stupid for diving into this, and expecting the Latina to hold the answers.

**"First of all, you have to swallow your pride, and join the careers."**, replied the Latina, obviously thinking that she did hold the answers, continuing the casual caress off her lips on Arizona's neck.

Flinching, and pulling out of Callie's grip, Arizona sighed, and slipped down to the floor, where she sat.

**"See? This is why we can't work. I CAN'T join the Careers. I just can't. You…not you…but your friends are monsters. Mark looks at my boobs when he talks to me. Cristina & Addison look like they'd eat me alive, and Derek's all McDreary in the corner. I can't…you KILL people, Callie. I can't do that, not even for you."**

Callie stood, uncertain in front of Arizona, her voice becoming level and disconnected from her emotions, **"So all of that, just then, meant nothing? It was pretty great for me, but if it wasn't for you, just say so. If you won't swallow your pride and join us, I can't protect you."**

**"No! No…I want you. Just you. I want to walk with you, and talk with you. I want to get to know you, and how you got magic fingers to tie knots so well when you fight like a demon. I want you, not an alliance. And that means we have six days together. It's up to you, but I can't put you through anything, and I can't make you think you have an obligation to protect me."**, she paused, and let out a sigh, **"I can't lose some-one else, even if I barely know you."** Arizona was thoroughly miserable now, the buzz leant to her by the kiss removed by thoughts of Timothy, and Nick, and of the empty house on the day of the reaping. Her eyes welled up a little, and she looked away, unwilling to appear weak in front of Callie.

Callie slid down onto the floor beside Arizona, reaching an arm over her shoulders and pulling her close. The smaller women stifled a sob, and buried her head in Callie's shoulder. Already, she felt dependant on the Latina for support.

This was the start of something fantastic for her, and hugely detrimental for her chances of survival.

**"We'll work things out, I promise."**, were Callie's next words, spoken softly by Arizona 's ear, as she gently stroked the blonde's hair, **"We can make this work, even if it's just for a little while. I'd rather have you for a little while than not at all."**

Arizona looked up, and Callie's hand slipped to her chin, cupping her jaw and pressing her lips to Arizona's softly, sensitively. It was comfort, and once it was broken, they stayed, leaning on each other, in the whitewashed hallway.

* * *

Their one moment together was broken by voices calling their names. A redhead flashed around the corner, and nearly stumbled into a wall as it saw them. Addison gave a loud cough, and the two jumped, knocked from their reverie.

**"Well, hi…Cal, we have to get ready. The ball starts in two hours."**, said Addison awkwardly, raising one eyebrow in an expression that only she could pull of. It was a mixture of amusement, bemusement and doubt – one that Callie recognized immediately.

Both Callie & Arizona stood, awkwardly eyeing each other like 12 year olds at a town disco. Addison coughed again and, once again, they both jumped.

**"I'd better go…See you later?"**, said Arizona quietly, feeling uncomfortable in Addison's presence.

Callie nodded, with a smile, **"Save a dance for me."**

Arizona blushed, gave a civil smile to the other Career present, and slipped off, out of sight.

Addisonn turned to Callie, her expression still in place, **"Are you speaking the Vagina Monologues now, Callie?"**

The Latina let out a snort of laughter, and gave her friend a shove before walking off, back to their apartments, leaving the redhead to catch up.


	7. Chapter 7

The tribute's ball is next, with more Calzona angst as they decide whether or not they can see each other. A comparatively long chapter this time, so I hope it doesn't bore you! Once again, I hope you enjoy this, and please review :)

* * *

**"Stop fidgeting. You look fine."**, Callie hollered to Mark, who was anxiously checking his reflection in the window of their corridor.

**"You would say that. You don't know how much work this face needs to get it the way it is."**, came the brusque reply, sounding oddly masculine, but still incredibly vain.

Making a strangled noise in the back of the throat, Callie reached over and yanked the man away from the window, **"Look Mark, honestly, just stop. It's not right for some one who's nearly an adult to preen as much as you to. I swear you have some sort of condition, like clinical narcissism."**

Mark gave a snort, and gave her a push, **"Says the girl who barely practised dancing so she could check she looked perfect for her little girlfriend."**

Catching him the surprised look Callie shot him, he indignantly went on, **"Hey, the looks you've been giving each other aren't that subtle, and I may be vain, but I'm not dense."**

When Callie kept his gaze with smouldering eyes threatening to erupt at any moment, he gave a sigh, **"Fine, Addison told me she caught you to snuggled up together."**

The Latina gave a groan, **"Why can't she just keep her mouth shut?"**

Grinning, Mark shrugged, and ran a hand through his hair, perfecting the tousled tresses on his head. For an eighteen year old, he look older than he was, and really rather good-looking. However, he seemed as if he looks would intensify with age, and this was merely the beginning.

Callie gave a chuckle at the thought, and Mark shot her a questioning look, however, she was saved from having to explain by their Escort bustling into the room.

**"It's time to go now, so look sharp."**, was the ever so useful advice offered by the Capitol-accented voice, before he scampered off again, in all of his toupeed glory.

Offering her an arm, Mark began to walk forwards towards the door. Smiling, she weaved her arm through his, and stepped into the ballroom with him.

...

Despite his teasing, his arrogance and his vanity, Mark was a decent guy, a good friend, and a fantastic ally to have on your side.

Still, she would pay him back for her remarks on her private business. And as they began to dance – the second couple in the formation – she began to plot small victories she could win against him to exact her compensation.

All the while, she kept an eye on the doorway which the Tributes from District Seven, Eight & Nine would emerge from, waiting for a familiar blond head to emerge.

* * *

Nervous to the point of being skittish, Arizona shifted from foot to foot, the tall heels she was wearing tapping lightly on the stone floor beneath her.

**"You know, if you just took a step back, this wouldn't be such a big deal for you. Calm down."**, called Charles from behind her, at ease against the grey, blank wall behind them, but obviously uncomfortable in his tuxedo, **"It's not like you have to be trapped in one of these straight jackets, anyway, is it?"**

Sighing, and allowing herself to relax a little, she walked over to where the other Tribute stood, and leaned beside him, her eyes sliding half shut. After her and Callie had been interrupted, she had been distracted. Distracted to the pout that she didn't even care what the stylists were doing to her, just that they finished what they were doing quickly. She needed to see the Latina again, and they needed to talk properly, without being interrupted.

Not that Arizona minded the way she had been interrupted last time they had been talking.

A smile slipped onto her face, one that was picked up by Charles, who took the opportunity to use it.

**"Going to dance with your girl tonight?"**, he asked, grinning as he startled her.

Arizona gave him a death glare, before muttering something under her breath.

**"Hmm…?"**, Charles continued, furthering his interrogation whilst chuckling lightly.

Equipped with the sweet smile that often accompanied her remarks, Arizona retorted, **"Only if you dance with your girl from Three. Isn't Reed her name? Maybe she can teach you how to dance."**

The chuckling emulating from Charles stopped immediately and he, in turn, glowered back at her.

**"Dude, if you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen"**, she added, a little less sharply, trying to soften her earlier words with a smile.

He returned her small smile, evidently still a little wounded from her comment. Charles was saved from replying from an Capitol official entering, and gesturing for them to move from their corridor into the ball room, straight into the first dance.

**"You ready, Phoenix?"**, he queried; using the coined name for her that he had heard another Tribute use. He thought it was a reference to a city in the country that was before Panem, but wasn't sure – the Capitol had banned the teaching of pre-Panem history in schools until recently, and he was not the most academically inclined in written subjects.

**"When you are, Nosedive."**, was the game reply from Arizona, referring to his spectacular fall whilst they were practising dancing, as instructed by their Escort an hour of so earlier.

The boy gave a roll of her eyes, and offered her his hand, which she took. Walking forwards, he led her into the ballroom, which was bedecked in a glowing gold colour and began to follow the other Tributes into the first dance, catching sight of a certain Tribute, and beginning to smile.

Maybe the night wouldn't be a total waste, after all.

* * *

In the Tribute's ball, only the first dance was televised. After that, the camera crews stepped out, and the Tributes were left mostly to their own devices, though they were watched through the closed circuit camera system, in case violence broke out.

The first dance was a spectacle, all the Tributes bedecked in less extravagant costumes than the opening ceremony, but still in dresses & tailor made tuxedos that cost more than most families in the poorer Districts earned in a year. All the District were also assigned a colour – District One got Purple, Two got Red, Three were allocated pink, Four yellow, and so on.

Arizona and Charles were dressed in blue – hers a long, sleek royal blue evening gown, his a midnight blue suit, with a black tie.

All of the Tributes looked splendid, and for the most part, they forgot all about what they were there for, and proceeded to mingle and laugh, dancing together in groups, or just pairs. Callie was roped into a Career dance, and capered around with Addison for a while, taking it in turns to impersonate each other.

A blonde interrupted a particularly lively dance between the two, and offered Callie her hand. It would have been impolite to refuse, so the two swayed lightly together. The blonde was from Six, and surprisingly capable in training for a non-career, especially with an axe. They began to talk, and slowly, it became clear that Erica (as her name was revealed to be) was looking for an alliance with the Careers, and possible something more with Callie, as thinly veiled hints revealed.

**"I'll think about it."**, replied Callie, gently breaking off the dance early on, and smiling tightly at the blonde, before walking back over to Cristina stood, not dancing.

**"You get all the ladies, don't you?"**, the woman said bluntly, not taking her eyes from the other Tributes. Jackson was dancing with the fainter, April, from Eleven; Derek with an ash-blond girl from Five, Mark with a dark haired girl from Eight. It had become apparent during the evening that Cristina did not dance.

**"Shut it, Yang."**, replied Callie sharply, trying her best to ignoring the raised eyebrows the Career was sending her.

It was at that moment that another, more welcome blonde head than the last one came into view, and shot Callie a beaming smile, before diving into a dance with the boy from Five, Alex. He seemed grumpy and sultry, but had apparently cheered up in the presence of Arizona, and the girl from Ten, Izzie.

Unfortunately for Callie, Yang had caught the look from Arizona too, and gave a malicious smile to Callie. **"My point in proven"**, the dark-haired woman sang in a triumphant voice, before striding over to a rugged, ginger haired man from Twelve to steal or bully his drink off of him.

Feeling more relaxed now that Yang had wandered off to torment somebody else; Callie was content to watch Arizona dance. As if she felt her eyes, the blonde looked up and gestured for Callie to join in, as she was quickly becoming a third wheel between Izzie & Alex.

Grinning, and finishing her drink, Callie walked over in perfect time for the next dance.

* * *

Callie arrived just in time for Izzie and Alex to wander off to dance together, alone, leaving her and Arizona as a pair.

Arizona gave the Latina a small, shy smile, and offered her hands out for a dance. Callie gamely accepted, and as the dance was slow, they settled into an easy rhythm, waiting a few moments before speaking.

**"So, I've been thinking…"**, began Arizona, only to be cut of my Callie.

**"Arizona, if you start to ramble again, I'll be forced to cut you off like I did last time."**, were the words that interrupted her, causing the blonde to blush and trip over Callie's feet. Whilst Arizona felt awkward, Callie found it adorable, and giggled a little.

**"As I was saying, I've been thinking. I call things wrong in the heat of the moment – I back out, I run away. But if you want to, just for this week, we can try this. We can try us. But you have to promise, once we're in the Arena, you can't compromise yourself for me, and I can't do the same for you"**

The words fermented in the air for a moment, allowing Callie to mull over them, before they settled & faded, **"That sounds fair to me. So long as you do compromise, and come and train with the Careers. You don't like Mark, but he's harmless here. So are the others. You can do what you like when we're in there, but if you want to give us this week, you actually have to let me see you during training."**

**"I'll train with the Careers if you train with me and Charles for half of the time. Deal?"**, was the negotiation given by Arizona, smiling now.

**"Deal."**

* * *

With that, the song changed, and Callie grinned. She knew the song, and it was energetic, so she spun, pulling Arizona into a wider space, so they had more room to themselves.

**"Can you dance?"**, asked Callie with a grin.

**"Can I dance?"**, countered Arizona, with a larger smile, **"I'm offended that you even have to ask that."**

The blonde spun away from Callie, pulling off the silver high heels on her feet, and tossing them onto a sofa at the edge of the ballroom. Following suit, Callie did the same, and they were both barefoot on the wooden ballroom floor, facing each other.

Bobbing to the beat of the song, Arizona slipped away raising her arms up and exaggeratedly shaking her hips from side to side. She spun around, and did a loop of the other Tributes, before finding her way back to Callie, who watched her in amusement, before rolling her eyes, and joining in.

Arizona pulled a face at Callie's reluctance, and immediately, Callie gave a mocking pout in reply.

Both beginning to giggle, they drew closer together, jokingly shimming together before doubling over in laughter. They slide past each other, exchanging jokes and little comments causing them both to laugh as they danced, and soon, most of the other Tributes, barring Cristina and the equally stoic Owen from Twelve, were following their example and loosing themselves in laughter as they jumped around.

**"You have impeccable jazz hands"**, called Callie to Arizona, over the noise of the music, and the other Tributes.

**"You'd be surprised at what else they can do."**, was the flirtatious answer she wrought from the blonde, causing Callie to blush in surprise.

Arizona let out a laugh, and trailed her hand over Callie's hips as she passed, placing a subtle, nearly imperceptible kiss on the Latina's neck.

Soon, the atmosphere took over, and even Cristina was joining in, pulling Owen over to where the other Owen, her fellow Four, was dancing with Meredith. An irritatingly perky woman with curly hair from Nine joined the group, and started to wave her arms about in ways peculiar to even the least co-ordinated of dancers.

Addison danced with the boy from Eleven, Sam, and lord knows what other odd pairings were taking place at that moment. It was a melting point of attitudes, Districts, opinions, looks & dance moves, but somehow, it looked oddly right.

By this time, Callie and Arizona were fully dancing together, in close range, Callie's hands on Arizona's hips, and ghosting up and down her sides teasingly as she slipped past. The DJ seemed to have caught the vibe and had continued to play upbeat, dynamic music until everybody was exhausted.

* * *

At this point, Arizona excused herself to get some air, and wandered outside the ballroom to a corridor that had a window that would open (half of them didn't in the building, for the obvious reason of suicidal Tributes). It wasn't like they even needed that precaution: there was a force field around the building, which would stop the Tribute from dying.

Slowing her breathing, and tucking her hair behind her ears, Arizona leaned out, sucking in the fresh, cold air, and shivering slightly. She heard footsteps from behind her – ones that she recognised – and for the first time did not jump as a pair of now familiar arms slipped around her.

The warm body behind her was the perfect temperature to counteract the cold air nipping at her skin, and she shifted further into it, giving a low murmur of appreciation as lips slipped to the side of her neck as gently kissed the cold skin.

They stayed in the position for a few moments, before Arizona turned, spinning so that Callie was against the window, and a hand on the window sill either side of her trapped her there.

**"Usually, I'd be concerned about being trapped in a corner by an opposing Tribute, but I think I'll make an exception."**, Callie said softly, her eyes glittering as she took in the blonde in front of her.

A soft hand traced her jaw line, and she leaned into it, watching Arizona's reactions to her. After a moment of what seemed like deliberation, Arizona leaned in and gently touched velvety lips to her own.

Callie leaned into the kiss, feeling her heart rate speed up, and her breathing hitch. She slowly tilted her head to one side, and caught Arizona's face in her hands, pulling her closer. Their lips moved in synchronisation, and one hand slipped from Arizona's face to twine with the blonde's fingers.

Their lips opened, and the kiss became deeper, shaking both of them down to their very centres. Callie felt herself want to change for the girl with her lips on her own- to be a harmless Tribute instead of a cold-blooded, calculating Career. She wanted not to fight, just to wait out the storm, instead of trying to battle it.

Finally, the kiss was broken, and each pulled away a little, though their hands intertwined.

**"Come back to my room?"**, Arizona asked, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, and biting it anxiously.

**"There's nothing I'd like more."**, whispered Callie softly, tucking a loose strand of blonde hair behind Arizona's ear.

With Callie's hand in her own, Arizona walked from the noise of the ballroom back to the apartment complex, a soft squeeze on her hand comforting her slightly as they walked.

* * *

.


	8. Chapter 8

Yay, a new chapter, after an extended absence! Sorry for the delay, I needed to put in a last push for all of my summer exams. However, everything is now done, and school's almost over, so the updates should become regular again :) This should liven things up a bit hopefully. Enjoy!

* * *

Warmth surrounded her, and for the first few moments of disorientating awakeness in four hours, Arizona struggled to remember where she was. Scrunching her face up, and rubbing her eyes to rid them of early morning stickiness, she looked around. Straight into the face of the Latina who had been watching her sleep.

**"Whoa…good morning…"**, came the first startled, then content words of the morning from the blonde.

**"Hey there, sleepy."**, retorted Callie, gently leaning over and brushing her lips on Arizona's..

Arizona gave a smile, then pulled back, **"How long were you watching me sleep for?"**

**"A while…"**, was the sheepish retort, accompanied with a small blush on the other woman's cheeks.

**"Creep."**, shot Arizona teasingly, playfully tugging at a strand of Callie's hair.

Lying back on the pillow, Arizona thought through the previous night. After dancing together, Arizona had brought Callie back to her room. To be quite honest, her intentions were not that pure but, in hindsight, she should not have been as worried.

They had danced a little more, tiring equally, then fallen, exhausted, onto Arizona's bed. There had been some awkward, stolen glances but, luckily, neither had called the other out on them. They had, after all, only known each other for a few days, but neither wanted to bring up that particular barrier again.

Nevertheless, they had spent the night talking softly, curled around each other, before falling asleep intertwined – Callie's arms around Arizona, with the smaller woman's legs intertwined with her own.

**"Don't blame me, I was just making sure you weren't comatose"**, shot back Callie, snapping Arizona from her daydream, her eyes twinkling, **"Honestly, I would have thought you had died in my arms, had you not been talking…"**

Arizona gave a groan, and pulled a pillow from behind her over on top of her face, covering it, and muffling her voice entirely. A nonsensical string of sounds escaped the feathered mute, making Callie laugh.

**"Don't be embarrassed, it was cute."**, Callie stated, trying to tug the pillow from her companion, with no success.

Turning, Arizona pulled a face, though the cushion hid it, **"I want to be seductive. Not cute."**

**"Cute and perky is seductive. Or at least, you make it so it is."**, retorted the Latina, making one last effort to tear the pillow from the blonde.

Another grumbled groan came from the swaddled figure, and Callie was left with no choice. Releasing her arms, which were around the other woman, she pulled a pillow of her own from beside her, and raised it up over the other woman, holding it in place before bringing in down with a whoosh.

**"OW!"**, yowled Arizona, sitting up at once, and holding her head in her hands, **"Oh no you didn't…"**

The Latina's only response was a sly smirk. With a shriek, Arizona lunged forwards, striking Callie in the midriff with her own pillow.

Gales of laughter filling the room, they proceeded to swat each other with the soft feather pillows, with Arizona gaining the advantage.

Grinning, the blonde threw the pillow aside, and tackled Callie back onto the bed, shaking with laughter as she did so. With a thump, they landed – Arizona straddling Callie's hips – and fell silent.

For a moment, they sat in silence, looking at each other.

**"You're beautiful"**, Arizona blurted, forgetting to process her thoughts, and spitting out exactly what she was thinking.

The woman beneath her blushed, and seemed to squirm a little, looking away. Seeing the reaction her words brought about, Arizona gently cupped Callie's cheeks in her hands, and leant over, pressing her lips softly to the other woman's.

**"You are."**, the blonde whispered, pulling away less than an inch from Callie's face, and looking her in the eyes.

Melting under the other woman's gaze, Callie breathed a sigh and sat up, pulling Arizona to her, and planting a kiss on the blonde's sculpted right collarbone.

Murmuring a noise of contentment, Arizona leant her forehead against Callie's and they sat, in silence, breathing in time with each other.

Both were content in the moment. Both were utterly unconcerned about what the repercussions of their contentment were.

Both were utterly startled when the door to Arizona's room flew open, to reveal a pack of Peacekeepers, and a short black woman with a look of shock on her face as she took in the two scantily clad women curled around each other on the bed.

* * *

The woman seemed to compose herself, and in a stern voice, called to them.

**"You two. You're coming with me. Hurry up, and put some clothes on."**

Appropriately chaste, Callie freed herself of Arizona's frozen grip, and began to scoop up her clothes from the previous night. She turned, and saw Arizona, apparently bemused and irritated, open her mouth to speak, and Callie didn't have to read her mind to know it would be something excessive & obscene that came out.

Grabbing the blonde's arm to make her stop, Callie leaned over, and whispered in her ear.

**"Arizona, don't"**, she murmured, trying to avoid looking at the woman in the doorway as she did so, **"That's the Nazi…Miranda Bailey, the Game Maker."**

Gently pushing Arizona's gaping jaw shut, they both turned, and dressed quickly, all of the while conscious of the woman at the door, and her escort.

After a few minutes of shuffling around, both turned and walked to the door, apprehensive, and contrite, facing the woman who was basically responsible for signing their death sentences.

**"Hmph…"**, came the words from the woman, **"You two have caused me a lot of trouble. Let's hope you're worth it."**

With that, she strode off, leaving the two women behind her to look at each other in puzzlement, before following her.

* * *

**"Really? So you're telling me that despite the fact that you two are training to fight to the death, against each other, and you decide to shack up and do goodness only knows what?"**, shot Bailey, staring down the two women in front of her.

**"We didn't actually do—"**, Arizona spoke up, before she was silenced by a glare from the Nazi.

**"Not only that, but you put the entire complex on red alert because you go missing to a love nest in one of your rooms. Last time two tributes ran off together, they killed each other so that they would not have to take part in the games. This may have been in good fun for you, but you could have cost yourselves any privileges you could get."**

The woman paused to let her words sink in, then sat down at her desk, her tone quieting a little as she went on.

**"However, the Capitol, and the other Games Officials have deemed that your antics could be somewhat useful to them. We will tolerate the…thing…you two have going on, so long as you make it public. Star-crossed lovers have always attracted viewers, which is something we can use. It will help you, if you're not as stupid as you look. Viewers, and strong personalities attract sponsors, which you'll need when you're in there. Still, if you two EVER cause the panic and trouble you did today, I will make sure you do not get any parachutes whatsoever in the Arena…Consider yourselves warned."**

Bailey made a gesture for the two women to leave, her eyes still glittering with vexation at the two. Quickly, Callie grabbed Arizona's hand, and made to walk briskly from the room.

**"I trust this will all come to the forefront at your interviews."**, called Bailey, not turning around as they left.

Arizona bit her lip, and allowed Callie to lead her through the plush hallways to the Tribute's apartments. Training started in an hour, and both were still reeling from the blow dealt to them by Bailey.

Sighing, Callie dropped Arizona's hand, **"So, where do we go from here?"**

**"Did you not hear Bailey? We have to go public, with whatever there is between us. And play up to it in the interviews, and the arena. We have to lie, and exaggerate everything there is. We have to pretend to be head over heels. This is bad…"**, came the reply.

Stung by Arizona's words, Callie jerked back, **"So it hurts you to say you're in love with me?"**

A frown appeared on Arizona's face, and she stepped closer to Callie, **"Of course not…I just didn't know if you'd be okay with it…We've only known each other for three days, Calliope, and it's a lot to ask of any-one."**

Sighing, Callie pulled the smaller woman into an embrace, and buried her face in Arizona's hair.

**"What are we going to do Arizona…?"**, she murmured

**"We'll cope, and like Bailey said, this could be good for both of us."**, Arizona replied, **"Look, the interviews are tomorrow, it can come out them…but it's probably best if we don't see each other until then, to sort things out."**

**"Okay…"**

Drawing Arizona in for a kiss, Callie breathed in the smell of the other woman. It was fresh – coconut & roses – and subtle, gently creeping over the Latina and calming her down.

Pulling away, Callie smiled, **"I'll see you in training."**

She walked away, to the elevator bank with looking back, though it tore at her to do so.

The whole way there, she felt a pair of now familiar blue eyes burn into her back as she walked.

Arizona.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed it, and please review!


	9. Chapter 9

More Chapters, more tension. I think after the interviews, there will be one more chapter based around training, and then I'll dive straight into the Games. Also, I'm going to put an Appendix of all of the characters in the first chapter, and the rough basis of what's going on, so check there if you want to see what Grey's Characters are in the other Districts. Once again, enjoy!

* * *

It was tense as they waited – lined up one-by-one like cattle heading for an abattoir.

No-one met each others eyes, and there had already been an argument between two hot-headed tributes – Yang and Avery – regardless of the fact that they were supposed to be allies. It took all the efforts of Callie, Derek & Addison to tear them apart from each other before fighting broke out before they were even in the arena.

Seeing as the Tributes were lined up behind, or in front of, the other Tribute from their District, no more fights threatened, regardless of the palpable tension.

...

Glancing back down the line, past Mark's serious face, Callie strained to catch a glimpse of Arizona. As usual, the blonde was stunning in a tight blue dress that showed skin in all of the right places, and that stretched midway down her creamy thighs.

A sly grin slipped onto Callie's features as she waited for Arizona to turn around and see her, dispelling the sickness that had caught hold of her whilst contemplating the fifteen minutes of public speaking that awaited her.

Swivelling back to face the front from the twisted position she had been in whilst trying to comfort Charles (who was not the most confident at public speaking), Arizona raised her eyebrows as she met a pair of eyes, with which she was now well acquainted, staring at her. She gave a small smile, unwilling to attract attention, then frowned as the woman she was looking at suddenly spun and made a dash for the bathroom.

Immediately, Arizona lunged forwards, knocking Mark out of the way as he tried to help Callie.

**"I've got this, Pretty Boy"**, she called quickly over he shoulder, trying to dispel the irritated look he was shooting her.

She moved forwards, trying her hardest to ignore the awkward looks she was receiving from the other tributes. Moving quickly, she flung open the door to the bathroom, then swung it tightly shut behind her.

**"Callie…? Callie…? It's Arizona…where are you?"**, a groan from the cubicle – the last on the right – caught the blonde's attention, and she moved swiftly to it, biting her lip and giving a soft sigh as she saw Callie crouched in front of the toilet, obviously being sick.

Without regard for dirt or germs, Arizona got down on her knees behind the other woman, and gently pulled the soft raven hair from Callie's face, holding it in a knot on her neck.

**"Arizona…go…I don't want you to see me like this. And you'll miss your interview"**, Callie said, before groaning once more, and retching over the toilet bowl in front of her.

**"Yes, because I'm just going to leave my girlfriend in the toilet on her own vomiting, just so I can have Caesar Flickerman point out to me what little chance I have in the arena."**, shot Arizona sarcastically, her tone pointed, though her thumbs still smoothed Callie's cheeks and the sides of her neck gently.

Pausing, Callie turned in Arizona's grip to face the other woman. Mercifully, there was no vomit around her mouth.

**"I'm…I'm you're girlfriend?"**, she asked quietly, her eyes searching Arizona's face, for emotion whilst her own features were a mask.

**"I…erm…um…forget I said anything. I just thought, because we...we kind of are, and we're expected to be, and I don't know about you but...Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, it's just that we're supposed to be together for the Games, and for the Capitol, so we are in their eyes, but I really like you regardless so, I don't know, erm, like I said I don't mind but if you don't want to anymore it's just fine rea—"**

Her face lighting up, Callie, gave Arizona a gentle nudge, and gently interrupted her, **"Arizona, I want to be your girlfriend."**

A soft glow spreading over her, Arizona's eyes grew wide, and she smiled, **"Well, okay then, so I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you until you're better."**

The implied mention of illness caused Callie to choke, and turn back to the toilet.

**"Remind me, Calliope, why are you being sick?"**, Arizona said worriedly, resuming her former position.

**"I hate public speaking. I can't do it. It makes me sick. Obviously."**

A small chuckle shook Arizona's body, and Callie felt the movement against her back.

**"I don't see what's so funny, Arizona"**, she said, taking a little time to sound slightly pissed off.

**"Nothing's funny about you being sick, apart from the fact that you'll be fine, because you are a fantastic person, and whoever meets you can't help but love you. Be yourself, and the interview will be fine, honestly. It's me who doesn't stand a chance."**, came the reply, trying to sooth the irate vomitee in front of her. Arizona gently bent forwards and lightly kissed Callie's temple, before they lapsed into silence, Callie's retches fading away, and eventually disappearing.

**"Feeling better?"**, asked Arizona from behind her, reluctantly releasing the raven tresses in her hand, and slipping her hands instead around Callie's waist.

**"Thanks to you."**

Standing, Arizona helped a slightly shaky Callie from the ground, grinning, **"You know, Bambi, you're quite compliant when you're sick. I might take advantage of that next time."**

The sly words that Arizona spoke sent shivers up Callie, as did the way Arizona's hand traced up and down her spine.

**"If my mouth was clean, and I hadn't just been throwing up, I'd kiss you right now."**, Callie replied, trying to skirt over the fact that she'd be more than willing to let Arizona take advantage of her for a night. Or a day. Or both.

Smiling, Arizona brushed a strand of hair from the brunette's cheek, and chuckled slightly, **"I'd love you to, vomit or no vomit. Now get yourself cleaned up & calm. You've got an interview to ace."**

Rolling her eyes, and obeying her girlfriend (thinking of Arizona as her girlfriend made Callie extremely & inexplicably happy) Callie grabbed a toothbrush, on odd item to have in a communal bathroom, and began to brush her teeth, removing the taste of vomit & the feel of it in her throat.

The entire time, Arizona watched her, and as she did so, a small smile appeared on her features, dispelling any doubts that she had about her interview. She had Callie, so everything would be okay.

When the Latina turned back to her, she pretended not to have been looking, and with a sly smile asked, **"Can I have that kiss now?"**

**"You can have as many as you like."**

Stepping forwards, Callie happily obliged, slipping her hands around the blonde's waist and pulling her in closer. She paused when her lips were an inch from Arizona's and smiled, kissing the hidden spot at junction of the blonde's neck and jaw – delighted to hear a gasp from the other woman – before trailing soft kisses down Arizona's jaw to her lips.

Tugging impatiently at Callie's hair, Arizona pressed her lips to the other woman's, feeling a fever spread from them to all over her. Hungrily, Callie traced Arizona's lips with her tongue, and smiled into the other woman's mouth when the pair of lips she was kissing yielded and allowed her in.

As the kiss went on, it became more and more heated, until Arizona was sitting on the side of the bathroom, her legs curled around the Latina's waist, and her hands racing up and down the body in front of her.

Fire ripped through them both, making Arizona glad she was sitting down, for her knees felt like jelly, and there was a feeling of warmth growing in the pit of her stomach.

The omniscient PA system obviously sensed where the kiss was leading, and so decided, in it's infinite wisdom, to go off: **"Ding-dong. Hello Tributes! The interviews are beginning as we speak. Make sure you're in line and prepared!"**

Growling, and tearing her mouth from Callie's, Arizona glared at the speaker system.

**"You know, you're cute when you're pissed off"**, murmured Callie in her ear, slipping her hands up the blonde's thighs for a moment, before stepping away.

Sticking her tongue out at Callie, Arizona slipped off the side, and pulled her dress down from where it had been pushed up to. Both of them were ruffled & out of breath, so it took a little time to compose themselves.

One last kiss was shared – slower than before, but accompanied by a slow burn – before they slipped from the bathroom together, and headed for their respective places in the line.

* * *

**"Callie, please tell me you didn't just do Blondie in the bathroom."**, pleaded Addison as Callie approached, her eyes twinkling, but her nose wrinkled, "I had hoped you'd have more class."

Indignant, Callie gave her friend a push, and pulled a face, **"Of course I didn't…but I came close to it."**

With a groan, Addison flicked Callie the bird, before striding off to her interview – which was the first of the twenty-four.

Grinning, Callie turned and winked at the Blonde half a dozen people behind her.

...

**"I'm not your brother, or your closest friend, but still I have a say. Was it me, or was there steam coming out of the bathroom after you and Two slipped out?"**, taunted Charles when Arizona walked back to her place in front of him.

Her expression becoming sweet and innocent, Arizona turned to Charles, **"Of course. I just slept with a girl in a bathroom two minutes before my interview with Caesar Flickerman and it was mind blowing, Charles. Whatever, obviously, you just find it intimidating that I get more girls than you."**

Laughing, Charles gave her a nudge, **"You know I'm kidding. Do what you like. Two's hot."**

Shooting Charles a glare, she turned her back on him, and faced the front of the line, just in time to catch a mischievous wink from a certain Tribute in the District Two space.

* * *

Watching the other Tributes walk up to their interviews, and seeing them on the large screens hung around, Callie had begun to feel nervous and, consequently, sick again. However she was near the front of the line, and after Addison went Jackson, and in ten minutes, the stage was hers.

They had picked their entrance songs for themselves, and as Callie was led up to the wings of the stage, she could hear Joe Bonamassa's _"Too Much Ain't Enough Love"_ playing.

**"You're on Ms. Torres"**, a stage hand said, giving her a gentle, guiding push in the small of her back to push her onto the stage.

Callie almost stumbled, by regained herself just as she was in sight of the crowd. It was huge. There must have been at least 2,000 people in the building, as unbelievable as it was. Sucking in a breath that she desperately needed, for she hadn't realised she was holding her breath, she made her way over to where Caesar stood – his hair & eyelids a vibrant red for this year's Games – giving waves and air kisses to the audience.

As she reached the odd-looking man, she smiled, and held out a hand, which, unexpectedly, the man took and kissed, before leading her to the plush seats in the centre of the stage.

**"Ladies and Gentlemen, from District Two, Calliope Torres!"**, he roared, which made the crowd roar in response, and it was a good five minutes before they quietened enough for their Host to be heard.

**"So, Callie, can I call you that? How has the Capitol been treating you so far?"**, was the opening question, one to ease the interviewee in to the flow.

**"It's…different. It's not like I've seen much of it, though. We haven't left the training area for days!"**, Callie said, slick off the mark, despite a stutter at first, and eager to seem friendly, relatable and at ease.

**"So, you've been working hard then? Fortunately for our audience, we have some clips of you in training. Shall we see them Ladies & Gentlemen?"** A roar from the crowd in the affirmative was enough for Caesar and he gave a nod to the technician, and immediately, Callie saw herself on the skin, still and calm, with the hint of a smirk on her face.

She recognised the movements, and realised that they had been filming her in training. She head tilted to one side, she watched as she swung out her knives – the blade on each as long as her forearm – and began to swirl, tearing apart the dummies that surrounded her, and making the instructor leap back in surprise. Within forty-five seconds, the dummies were decimated on the floor, and she had returned to her neutral position in the centre. The crowd went wild. Again. This time, Callie just plastered on a fake smile, and waited for it to subside.

**"Very impressive, Callie…now, off matters of business. Is there a special some-one back home for you to return to?"**, asked Caesar with a knowing nod.

**"No, actually Caesar, there isn't…"**, she replied, trying her best to look coy & mysterious.

Apparently, it worked, for people in the crowd made some light-hearted catcalls, and Caesar raised an eyebrow, **"Surely there's some-one for you. A girl like you? There must be. Do tell."**

**"Well Caesar…"**, Callie began, flicking her hair over one shoulder, as he eagerly gestured for her to go on, **"There is some-one. Some one here…She's incredible. Funny, dorky, beautiful, charming, suave. Just incredible. I could go on Caesar, but that would take the fun out of it."**

'_Oooooo-oooooo-oooooooooh', _came the collective cry from the audience – one that Caesar echoed.

**"You won't tell us, or you can't?"**, asked Caesar, stirring the pot once more.

**"Hmmm…I'll leave you to decided that for yourself. A mixture, I'd say. But…she might not want me to say, so you'll have to ask her."**

**"Oh, find out we will, won't we folks! Can you tell us one useful detail about her"**

**"Because I'm so lovely Caesar, I'll give you two. She'e blonde. And she's a Tribute…"**

Callie let the words hang in the air, savouring the whiplash effect they had on the crowd before Caesar stood, and took her hand.

**"Calliope Torres, Ladies & Gentlemen!"**, he roared, before dropping his voice, **"The girl with the secret love."**

Waving to the crowd, Callie sauntered off stage, becoming more at ease with every step she took.

**"The crowd loved you Callie, you're in for a winner!"**, Mark called to her as she passed.

However, she was fixed on one other face. Arizona's.

As she faced the blonde, a smile and a nod graced the blonde's features.

Callie had set them up perfectly; now they were both interesting & desirable, and could gain sponsors. It was Arizona's pick up the ball and run with it.

However, both of them knew, deep down, that it was no ball game they were showing off and parading around. It was their hearts.

* * *

Walking up on stage, Arizona experienced something different to Callie's feeling of sickness & nervousness. She felt strangely aloof, and calm.

As if she could not be touched by what was going on. And she, unlike the twelve tributes before her, had no chosen a song that was obviously waxing lyrically about herself.

Her choice was subtle, as she hoped to be. The first few bars of Debussy's _'Clair de Lune'_ began to play, and she glided from the wings to the stage, greeting the crowd with a serene smile, and a slight, coy icy smile twitched the corners of her mouth up.

**"The charming Arizona Robbins, folks!"**, was Caesar's introduction this time; short and sweet in it's entirety.

Reaching him, she gave him a light peck on the check, nearly wrinkling her nose at the overpowering scent of Freesias on him.

And so, the interview began: **"Miss Robbins, are you excited to be here today?"**

**"There's no where else I'd rather be, Mr. Flickerman."**, she said with a bright, sincere smile, crossing her legs as she sat, and placing her hands neatly in her lap.

**"That's what we like to hear. And do call me Caesar, Miss Robbins"**

**"Only if you call be Arizona."**

**"It's a done deal"**

Though she was obviously charming, and intriguing, the crowd was still wary of her, as there was no response to most of what she had said so far. It was the Tribute from Three's fault: Erica. She had alluded to being the blonde that Callie had described, and the crowd had been quite taken with her.

Arizona had felt like throttling her when the opening bars of her song came on – Time to Pretend, by MGMT. And she had grown more and more aggravated during the interview, and had almost thrown herself at the woman's self-satisfied face as she swaggered back off stage.

A cough brought her back to the present, and she started, a bashful smile appearing on her face, **"Sorry Caesar, I missed that. Come again?"**

**"I asked what your strength's are, Arizona, as somehow, you've managed to avoid the camera in training."**

**"Well, I guess listening isn't on the list"**, and finally, this brought a laugh from the crowd, **"I'm not too strong, but I'm handy with a knife, I've got a clear head, a excellent memory, and I'm good with my hands."**

**"And, you also look stunning tonight, I might say, so that might be a strength too, eh?**", prompted Caesar, and she guessed where he was going. Erica obviously hasn't convinced him, and she was one of three blondes still left unaccounted for.

**"You're too kind. But really, I'm not as pretty as some of my fellow Tributes, nor as strong. They're all so talented."** This respect for her fellow Tributes seemed to earn her some respect in the crowd, as some nods & murmurs began to emerge.

**"I assure you, you are. Speaking of attractiveness, have you seen Callie Torres?"**

**"I might have done, Caesar…"**, she replied, deliberately being coy.

**"Might have done? So, you wouldn't be the mystery woman Ms. Torres is desperately infatuated with?"**

**"I wouldn't say that…"**, she said, beginning to smile as the truth began to flood out.

**"So you are?"**, asked Caesar anxiously, as the crowd waited with baited breath.

With a sigh, she gave a soft, sheepish smile, and ran a hand through her hair, **"I am Caesar. I am in love with the girl that's here with me…Calliope Iphegenia Torres."**

Instantly, the crowd roared, and it began to make Arizona's head spin. Half of the screens around the massive stadium began to show live footage of Callie, who looked ecstatic behind the stage, her eyes shining brightly, with a million-watt smile on her face. It broke Arizona's heart to think that the smile and the eyes were for the cameras and the crowds, not her.

**"Shall we bring Callie onstage again?"**, Caesar asked the crowd, who, as usual, hollered their agreement.

This time, Callie didn't feel nervous as she was brought on stage, and was greeted by Caesar. Her eyes were on Arizona, who stood up, and Caesar had stepped out of the way, gently cupped Callie's cheeks in her hands and kissed her.

The crowd went wild at the sight of them, and sparks flew from both of them in apparent addition, courtesy of the tech team, to celebrate their doomed love.

It took a long time for the crowd to quiet, and in the end, no more questions could be asked for the noise radiating around them. Callie had her hand curled around Arizona's waist, and the smaller woman curved her body to the Latinas, occasionally shooting her a glance, and feeling her hurt stutter as she did so.

They walked off stage together, hand-in-hand, and began to giggle as they hit the steps offstage. They collapsed into gales of laughter in front of the other waiting Tributes, and ended up curled together on a sofa, their hands still entwined, as they watched the next interviewee – Charles – be led away.

Curling more tightly into Callie, Arizona caught Callie's lips in their second public kiss and smiled into the other woman's mouth.

She was glad they didn't have to hide anymore.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed the chapter :)


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